08/09/2025
MY BOYFRIEND ASK ME NOT TO THROW MY MĒNSTRŪAL PĀD MYSELF THAT HE WILL, ALWAYS HELPS TRASH IT EVERY MONTH… UNTIL I STARTED NOTICING THIS
EPISODE 30
Written by Grace Ochiba ✍️
The moment the light swallowed me, I landed in a place that was neither earth nor sky.
The ground was black, stretching endlessly, and above me swirled a crimson horizon with no sun, no moon—only shadows moving like restless smoke.
And there he was.
Jude.
No longer a m@n, but a towering figure of flame and shadow, his eyes glowing like burning c0al.
“You came,” he said, his voice echoing through the void.
“You should have stayed with your people. Now, you will end here, Anita.”
I clenched my fists though my b*dy trembled.
“This ends today. You will never hold me—or my bloodline—again.”
He laughed, a sound that cracked the ground beneath us.
“Do you think your prophet’s chants can save you here? This is my ground. This is where you gave me your trust, your s*crets, your life. You are mine!”
His shadow hands stretched toward me, claws scraping the earth.
I stumbled back, the weight of his presence pressing against my chest, crushing me.
Then I heard it—the prophet’s voice, faint but steady, echoing across the spirit ground:
“Anita, remember… the covenant was sealed by your weakness, but it can only be broken by your will. Stand, child! Stand and claim your freedom!”
Strength I didn’t know I had surged through me.
I raised my hands, and the glow from the chalk circle—the same one that once protected me—appeared around my feet. It burned bright, forming a barrier between me and Jude.
He roared, slamming against it, sparks flying.
“You dare resist me?”
“Yes,” I whispered, tears in my eyes but voice firm.
“I dare.”
The chalk light spread, wrapping around my b*dy like a shield. The whispers of my ancestors filled the air—my grandmother’s voice, my forefathers calling my name.
“Anita… you are not alone.”
With every word, Jude shrank, his shadow cracking, his flames sputtering.
“No! This is impossible!” he screamed.
“You cannot destroy me! I live in your bl**dline!”
“Not anymore.”
Summoning every ounce of strength, I struck my palms together.
The chalk glow burst into a blinding wave of light, slamming into Jude. His shadow split apart, torn by the radiance. His screams shook the spirit ground until—finally—he shattered into dust, scattering into the void.
The silence that followed was heavy… then peaceful.
The crimson horizon faded, replaced by soft dawn light.
When I opened my eyes, I was back in the compound.
The villagers surrounded me, but this time, their faces carried awe, not condemnation. The prophet stood tall, his staff dim now but steady.
“It is done,” he declared.
“The covenant is broken. Her bl**dline is free.”
My mother collapsed into my arms, sobbing with relief. My father, trembling, placed his hand on my head. Blessing clung to me, whispering, “You did it… you really did it.”
I looked at the sky, the morning sun breaking through.
For the first time in months, the air felt clean. The laughter in the wind was gone.
Jude was no more.
And though scars remained in my heart and memory, I knew this truth:
I had faced the darkness… and survived.
The villagers slowly bowed their heads—not in scorn, but in respect.
And I whispered to myself,
“Never again.”
✨WATCH OUT FOR PROLOGUE✨
Funnybiggeorge
